


Untouchable

by keenquing



Category: Pushing Daisies
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-11
Updated: 2011-10-11
Packaged: 2017-10-24 12:47:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/263621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keenquing/pseuds/keenquing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Charlotte Charles spent a lot of time watching the Pie Maker's hands.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Untouchable

Charlotte Charles spent a lot of time watching the Pie Maker's hands. It was hard not to. Because of his special gift, he spent a lot of time tossing fruit between those hands, and then tossing the fruit to her. She was allowing herself to watch more intently than usual, today, since Olive had called in sick and they weren't very busy. Watching as he brought dead apples and peaches alive—his bare hand ghosting over the fruit, then quickly tossing it to the gloved one. Chuck barely caught each piece in her towel, because she kept watching. Watching the way the space between his thumb and index finger of his bare hand flexed with each grasp, how his bare fingers extended with the toss and his gloved ones curled around the fruit. As his fingers uncurled to toss her a peach, Chuck noticed the fine lines of the muscles under the glove and thought about how strong the hand beneath it was. And, her breath quickened a bit, how soft it could be.

 

“Chuck? You okay?”

 

Chuck blinked at his voice, then realized that the peach had splattered to the floor. “Oh, shoot! Oh, Ned, I'm sorry!” she said, crouching down both to clean up the mess and to hide her burning face. But then she felt the all-too-familiar brush against her fingers and saw that his gloved hand was there with hers amongst the peach guts. When she looked up, he was smiling nervously.

 

“Something wrong?”

 

Chuck shook her head. “Nothing! I was just...thinking.”

 

“Yeah?” Ned's shaky smile solidified a bit. “About what?”

 

Chuck bit her lower lip as Ned stood up to throw the peach away. “You.” she said, softly.

 

Ned turned around to lean against the garbage can, one arm crossed against his midsection and eyebrow raised. Chuck couldn't help watching his fingers (his bare fingers) splayed against his side. “Oh?” he sounded curious and nervous and pleased all at the same time. “And what, exactly, what were you thinking?”

 

Chuck willed herself to breathe as she stood up, brushed off her legs, and walked a few steps closer. “How beautiful your hands are.”

 

Ned blinked and his head fell to the side. “What?”

 

Chuck rolled her eyes. Then she craned her neck around to look out at the floor of the Pie Hole. There were only two people there, a man in a business suit and some old lady. They'd probably be fine for a little while. Then, carefully, she reached out and took the hand that was still at Ned's side (his gloved hand), holding it by the wrist. Shakily, she raised it up to her face and drew his middle and index fingers into her mouth, sucking the peach juice from the latex.

 

She felt Ned's body shake, and when he spoke his voice had shot up an octave. “Chuck, what are you doing?”

 

Circling his fingertips, Chuck gently pushed the fingers out of her mouth with her tongue. Then she held them, smiling timidly at him. “I told you, I'd been thinking about your hands. And, well...” she shrugged, more than a little embarrassed. “It's just...well, I mean for us...watching your hands all day, that's pretty much like porn, isn't it?”

 

She saw Ned's eyebrows shoot up under his hair, then slowly settle as he realized what she was saying. It was difficult to kiss and touch at the same time, for them. One of them always had to be holding the plastic wrap. And Ned was always nervous being completely naked together, afraid that whatever barrier was between them might slip or tear. But he was never afraid to love her with his hands. Sheathed in the lightest of latex, his hands would map the length of her naked body. He might remain completely clothed, and by traditional standards he never had sex with her. But his hands and fingers did everything the rest of his body longed to do.

 

Letting out a deep breath, Ned put his fingers against her lips. “I guess you're right. Do you ah...I mean, does that bother you? That that's all we have?”

 

In answer, Chuck slid her tongue in the crook between his thumb and pointer finger. When he trembled, she grinned at him. “What do you think?”

 

Ned closed his eyes and swallowed tightly. “I think,” he said, tensely, “that I need another glove”

 

Chuck grinned, biting the tip of his pointer finger. “I think you're right.”

 

 

 

She didn't notice if either of the two patrons in the Pie Hole paid and left or if anyone else came and then left when they didn't get service. All she noticed was the sensation of Ned's strong hands under her shirt, gripping and then gently smoothing over her breasts. His fingers between her legs, his index and pointer and—oh God, his thumb—pressing inside her. His free hand smothering her cries as she came, his thumb brushing against her lip during the aftershocks.

 

He didn't let her do anything for him—he said, as he stroked her hair, that just pleasuring her was enough and besides there were people who wanted pie. Chuck thought that those people could wait, there were more pressing concerns (and they were pressing against her thigh), but she didn't say anything. She just grabbed his hand and drew his fingers into her mouth one last time, shivering a little as the taste of latex and sweat and her own juices burst onto her tongue. Ned coughed her name and said something about needing to get back to work, saying it in that squeaky voice that let Chuck know he was that close to falling over the edge and taking her up on her offer. Even though she wanted to, Chuck thought better than to push him over. She released his hand, kissing his fingertips one last time.

 

And her only thoughts, afterwards, were as she watched him peeling the gloves off. Pretending like they hadn't just had sex in the kitchen. When he tossed the gloves in the garbage and started hunting for a pair of new ones, Chuck watched as his bare fingers tore through the drawers. She was a little disappointed when he found a pair and his long, pale fingers vanished in yellow rubber.

She'd have to look into getting him some clear gloves. 


End file.
